Member Poem

her spirit
collapses
her bones
break
she is always
lost
she will never be
free
from
herself.
 
cycles of
torment
series of
regret
oceans of
salt and
sky
blue and
black.
 
where are the
stars?
there is too much
fog
she sees
black skies
so empty
she is
empty
hollow
twisted.
 
she wonders if
she takes these
twists
that make up her
body
dark and
complex and
rolls them
up
all in one
like a perfect
ball
so pretty
so delicate
will it be full?
 
where are the colors?
beautiful
not dull
she is tired of
nothing
she is bored of
lies
she is sick of
it all.
 
bring her the colors!
the pretty ones
please.
 
fill the grotesque
ball
fill it with
colors
make it
happy
she is
romantic
everything is
poetry.
 
she feels
again
sparks like
the sun
dark like
the river
she smiles
mischievously
and invites you
in.
 
she will be okay
so do you want to come
and play?